Existentialism
by Twistedeveryway69
Summary: Hermione and Snape are joined for life magically. Can they cope? SSHG
1. Happy Birthday

Two days. Two days until she turned seventeen. Two days until she was legally allowed to do what she wanted with everyone's silent, obediant concent. Hermione Granger could barely contain her excitement, bobbing up and down as she and her best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley watched her wearily. Ron had already turned seventeen the week before, and understood her eagerness entirely. Harry, however, was bitter. He still had another near eight months until his seventeenth birthday. He walked beside his friends, arms crossed tightly across his chest, and he glared severely at the ground.

"Hermione, I think you should calm down a bit, or Snape might hit you over the head with a book." Ron told her warningly, unconciously rubbing the back of his own head. "Trust me, it's not pleasent. Is it, Harry?" Harry grunted in reply, not even bothing to bring his eyes up to look at his friends.

Oh, I know...I just can't help it! I mean, Seventeen! It's exciting, isn't it?"

"Well, yes." Ron said carefully. "But not if there's violence involved with your uncanny hyped up behavior. Honestly, Hermione...you're frightening me a bit." Hermione laughed without humor, bounding down the dungeon stares ahead of Harry and Ron. Professor Severus Snape, their potions teacher, was waiting for the class outside. He leaned lazily on the closed calssroom door. His stance was much like Harry's, though his lean figure was tall and lanky, and instead of untidy black hair, his black hair hung long and loose, greasy, aound his narrow face.

"Good morning, Professor!" Hermione said cheerfully, reaching into her bag to pull out her book. Snape looked bewildered, having not been confronted by this particular student in quite some time. He quarked an eyebrow and stared blankly at her.

"Miss Granger." He mumbled in response, and moved aside to allow the rest of class in.

Hermione was already seated when Harry and Ron took their seats on opposite sides of her. "Two days, seventeen!" Ron sang softly. Snape had flinched visibly when he saw who Ron was talking to. The trio saw this full-bodied jerk and looked at him questioningly. He sneered at them and turned on his heel, moving to stand where the entire class could see him. Hermione opened her book lithely, already knowing which subject they were to be studying. Snape cocked his eyebrow in her direction again.

"Turn to page four-hundred-and-sixty-nine." He said in a bored tone, leaning on his desk and resuming the position he once help outside of at the door. Hermione glanced up at him impatiently. "Not everyone is quite as quick as you are, Miss Granger. You'll either have to dumb yourself to their level or aquire a certain level of patience. Now, sleeping droughts. I am quite aware that we have studied this subject in your second year, but their are different types of droughts with different effects. And every one of them has a cure. All but one, but that's a bit too advanced, I think--Yes Miss Granger..." He sighed, nodding lazily in her direction.

"The drought of the living dead, sir?" She suggested. Snape leered at her.

"Did I not just say, Miss Granger, that it was a bit too advanced." He didn't asked, he stated. He drew himself up to his full height and loomed over the trio. "As I was saying, prior to your Einstein episode, Miss Granger. The drought of the living dead, though it is an extremely simple potion to brew, it has no known cure." He stepped back again and looked over the entire class, his tiny black eyes glistening. "Starting today, we will begin brewing the cure to the potion on this page, as they take time and plenty of effort. They will need to be checked daily. At the end of the week, they should be done, and you will brew the sleeping drought itself, and test them and the cures out on your classmates." There were several gasps and groans around the room, and they were silenced with one look from the potions master. He glanced up at the clock, waited until each hand was lined up perfectly, and said "Begin." Hermione was the first to her feet and across the room before the clock hands even had time to un-aline. She looked at the book in her one arm and used her free hand to gather the ingrediants listed on the page. She skipped carefully back to her table and placed her supplies neatly infront of her couldron. Ron walked by her, glancing over her shoulder.

"Do you have an obsessive compulsive dissorder?" he asked, dumping his own supplies on the table.

"No." Hermione said sourly. "I just prefer my work to turn out right. Maybe you should consider the idea." Ron scowled at her, but lined the ingrediants up, never the less.

Within an hour, both Ron's and Hermione's potions had reached the vibrant blue that was pictured in their books. Harry's was blue, but more of an ocean blue than the neon that his friends' were. He sighed, and tore his eyes from their perfect couldrons to look at his own.

"What exactly did you do wrong, Potter?" Snape asked, suddenly before him, staring confusedly at the deep blue liquid that was quickly turning into a solid. Harry grimaced and shrugged.

"I've no idea, sir." He mumbled.

"I'm sorry, Potter, did I hear you say that you didn't boil the bezoar before adding the other ingrediants?" Harry cringed and gritted his teeth. "Potter? I believe I asked you a queston."

No, sir. I didn't boil the bezoar before adding everything else." He sighed. Snape sneered at him.

"Had you followed the directions completely, Potter, your potion may look like Miss Granger's and...well, well, well, Mr. Weasley, I must admit that I am shocked. Or it may not have, Potter. It's hard to tell." Harry scowled and began packing his things up.

8

Hermione woke on the morning of her birthday, grinning as though she had just won the lottery. She glanced at her watch and sighed happily. Eight-thirty on a saturday morning. Jumping up, she made her bed quickly and threw on a pair of jeans that she would soon have to be rid of because they were in danger of ripping, and a faded 'Beatles' T-shirt. She yanked a brush through her hair and rushed down to the bathroom to brush her teeth and pull her bushy brown hair back into a messy bun. She grinned at her reflection breifly and flew out of the bathroom and headed to the great hall.

"Miss Granger!" A deep, kind voice called after her. She stopped and turned around to face their headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. She smiled into his old face, but he didn't smile back. The grin slipped quickly from her face.

"Has something happened?" She asked, wondering if her perfect day had been ruined. Dumbledore shook his head slowly.

"No, but you will need to come with me. There is something we need to discuss." She nodded and followed him. They walked quickly, and students passing by looked at her questioningly. She kept her eyes straight. Soon enough, they came to the statue entrance to Dumbledore's office. He murmured 'Blood Pop' and waved one graceful hand; the statue hopped aside, and a staircase was revealed. They walked up, one behind the other, and Dumbledore opened the door to his office. When the door swung opened, Hermione gasped.


	2. I'm pretty sure

Sitting on one chair, was Professor Severus Snape. His greasy head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He looked deeply ashamed of something unknown to the bewildered Hermione Granger. Dumbledore motioned for her to sit in the empty chair, and he took his own behind his desk.

"Miss Granger-"

"I didn't do it!" She blurted mechanically. Snape looked at her, his eyebrows drawn together in one dark line. Dumbledore, smiling now, looked just as confused.

"You didn't do what, Miss Granger?" He asked softly, leaning forward and resting his hands on his desk. She bit her lip, feeling every bit of blood in her body go to her cheeks.

"I'm not in trouble?" She asked. Dumbledore shook his head, grinning now.

"Heavens no!" He said. Snape tore his eyes away from her and looked at the headmaster. "But there is something very important to discuss." Hermione glanced at Snape several times, so quickly that both Dumbledore and Snape's faces began to blur together. "Something extrordinary--Miss Granger, are you quite alright?" Hermione shook her head mechanically, clearing her thoughts.

"Yes, sir." She said nervously.

"Lovely. As I was saying--"

"There is no good that can come from this, Headmaster." Snape's voice sounded so suddenly that Hermione nearly fell out of her chair. "This is absolutely inappropriate, and I refuse to take part." She stared between her teachers, her mouth hanging open in confusion. Dumbledore smiled kindly at Snape.

"I really don't think that either of you have much of a choice."

"Much of a choice in what?" Hermione finally asked, holding both hands up to keep them from interrupting her. "Is someone going to tell me what's going on?" Snape only stared at her, Dumbledore was the one to explain.

"The trace is now broken on you, correct?" She nodded mutely, letting her hands fall back into her lap. "Well, happy birthday, my dear. Once the trace is broken, you are able to connect with someone. Your souls, hearts, and minds connect, and you are bound for life. Some call it a blessing, having found their life mate and true love. Others call it a curse. Most never notice." Snape made a grunting noise, and crossed his arms, looking off at the opposite wall. He looked very much like a very large sulky child. Dumbledore glared at him. "It seems that you...and Professor Snape have that connection. I guessed that it may happen, the two of you are equals. And as they usually are, my guess was right."

"That," Snape said, just as abruptly as before. "is nothing to boast about, Albus. Not this time. This," he paused, obviously wracking his brain for the right words. "This is...this is...not right." Hermione realized then that her breathing was close to hyperventalation.

"I...don't...understand." She whispered. "I'm pretty sure i'm not in love with my teacher!" She took several deep breaths, trying to slow the beating of her heart. Dumbledore shot her a worried look, and Snape glanced at her oddly. She realized her voice sounded strangled, breathy, like she just found out about the death of her parents.

"Not yet." Dumbledore murmured, the smile slipping from his wrinkled face. Hermione jumped up, her hair falling from the loose bun it had been in. She gritted her teeth and shook her head at her headmaster, turned on her heel, and strode quickly toward the door. "Miss Granger, where are you going?" She stopped, but didn't turn to face the two men, for tears had flown to her eyes, and she couldn't keep them from falling down her cheeks. "Sit down, Miss Granger. We're not through here." She turned reluctantly, pressing her lips tightly together and wrapping her arms around herself. She walked slowly back to her chair and sat, staring teary-eyed at the ground. "I know that this is hard to take in. Think of it as an arranged marriage."

"What?" She squeaked. "I have to get married?" She shook her head violently. "I don't want to get married! Professor, that doesn't make the situation better at all."

"No. That was a bad comparison. You don't have to get married. Though, situations like this often end up in life-long marriage." He stopped as he saw the hostile look from Snape, and heard Hermione burst into more tears. He stood up and walked around the room once.

"I believe we are done here." He said softly, stroaking Fawks the pheonix's feathers gently. Hermione stood up quickly and left the room without another word. Snape remained seated, staring at his hands.

"Well," Snape said after a long moment. "I must honestly say that I expected worse. But...now she knows..and that's that." He stood and left the room.

**Sorry about the short chapter this time, but I'm having a bit of writer's block. If anyone would like to draw pictures, or do fan art (Highly unlikely, but a girl can dream:D) They are free to!**


	3. Experiment

**Thanks to everyone who as supported this story. I'm so glad it's had a good start.**

She ran as quickly as she could, back to the common room where her best friends waited for her. Hermione made it to the fat lady's portrait in no time, blubbered the password, and stumbled over the threshold. Harry and Ron sat infront of the fire, each holding neatly wrapped boxes in their laps. Next to Ron, was a small birthday cake with emerald green icing. As soon as they heard her stumble into the common room, they jumped up.

"Happy birth--Hermione?" They said in unison. Ron was the first one to her side, putting a gentle arm around her shoulders. "What happened, 'Mione?" He asked, leading her to one of the chairs infront of the fireplace. She sat slowly, reaching up quickly to wipe away her tears. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself and started in on the story that had taken place not even ten minutes before.

"He said we're equals." Hermione mumbled, looking down at her hands in her lap.

"How the bloody hell are you equals? He's evil!" Ron snarled. Hermione shook her head slowly.

"It only means that neither of us are superior to the other." She explained. She was no longer crying, but her voice shook conciderably, and she hiccuped every few seconds. "That's all it means. Nothing more...nothing less."

"But," Harry began, shaking his head, "this can't be right. Not right at all. You...you and Snape?"

8

"Ron, please!" Hermione begged, ready to fall to her knees if need be. "Please! Please do this for me, I can't go back there!" Ron sighed and turned to face her, frowning deeply.

"Alright." He said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "But if he kicks me out, or gives me detention for doing your work for you, It's on your back. He may kill me."

"Oh, for heavens sake, Ronald! I will go." She flicked her hair behind her shoulder in a very Fleur-like manner and walked forward toward the dungeons. She hoped she looked braver than she felt.

"Good for you, Hermione." Harry said, and those simple words broke through her. She stopped at the door to Snape's classroom, and spun back around, read to run. Harry and Ron were faster, each taking hold of her waist and wrenching her back around. "What happened?" Harry hissed to her as he reached forward to open the classroom door. They shoved her in first, and followed close behind.

"Ron, Harry, no! Please!" She begged, but they kept a firm hold on her. Snape sat at his desk, and heard the three bickering. He looked up in time to see Hermione break free of them and attempt to run. Harry and Ron, yet again, were much faster, and caught up with her. He rolled his eyes.

"Messers Weasley and Potter, will you kindly let go of Miss Granger. Miss Granger, check your potion, and I would like to speak with you." She froze, Harry and Ron still had their arms around her waist and shoulders, but quickly let go of her.

Her knees were shaking so terribly that it took her longer than it should have to make it up her teacher's desk. Her head pounded with the wonder of what he could want to talk to her about. There were many possibilities; Her grades. They had not changed, so that was not much a possibility. Harry and Ron and near molested her, and that could be what he wanted to talk to her about, but it was unlikely. The most logical reason would be the event that had taken place earlier that day.

"Professer?" She whispered, so there was no chance that were voice would crack. "Y-you wanted to speak with me?" He looked up from the essay he was grading and nodded.

"Yes, Miss Granger." He said, sittiing up straigter.

"Professor, I would like to apologize for my reaction earlier today." She began before he could speak. "It was irrational and uncalled for. But..." He paused, raising his eyebrows. "I hate to say that I'm not sorry." Snape looked ammused, and she stopped.

"You are apologizing, but you're not sorry?" He asked, attempting to keep his expression indifferent. She nodded.

"Yes, sir. Professor, can I ask you a question?"

"I suppose there's no stopping you. Go ahead." He gestured with one hand to continue.

"How does the connection work?" She cast her eyes downward, so as not to look at him when, or if, he answered.

"Dumbledore has a theory." Snape began, clearing his throat. "Everyone has their equal. I'm sure you understood what he meant when he said that." Hermione nodded.

"Neither is superior to the other." She said without raising her eyes. Snape nodded.

"Exactly. And that forms a bond. I suppose you could compare it to welding metal together." He flinched mentally, but continued. "Some people find they're equal, and they're together...for quite some time. Most, as Dumbledore said, never find they're equal. I suppose you could say that we are the lucky ones." He chuckled darkly, without a trace of humor, and that made Hermione very uncomfortable. "There's no telling who your equal will be, but you'll both feel it." He paused again and watched her reaction; she fidgeted with a stray lock of hair, biting her lip. He leaned forward suddenly, causing her to jump.

"You feel it, don't you, Miss Granger?" He asked, abruptly intense.

"I...don't...know what I'm feeling, Professor." She admitted. He nodded and leaned back in his seat. "I mean...I feel different...but I don't understand it." He stood, nodding again.

"Come...I'll walk you out." he strode past her and held the door open. She walked after him, and paused in the doorjam. He looked at her curiously as she turned to face him. Her expression was torn, confused, and she stood on her tip toes. His hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down on her flat feet prevented her from going any further.

"What are you doing?" He growled. She flinched as though he had struck her.

"Experimenting." She whispered. "I was just wondering if--" She hardly had time to finish. Both of his hands gripped her shoulders and spun her around and pinned her to the wall just inside the door. She cried out in pain, and was ready to protest when his lips crushed hers.

**Dun dun duuunnn. This is going pretty fast, isn't it? **


	4. Complications

**Thank you to my faithful readers!! You make writing this so much fun!**

**Existentialism : Complications**

_"Marry me?" he whispered against her mouth._

_"Yes."_

Hermione woke in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. That was the third time she had had that dream, and she was getting extremely tired of a proposal with no follow through. She sighed and threw off her blankets, grabbed her robes and went to go get ready for the school day.

She sat down next to Ron in the Great Hall, an empty plate infront of her. He looked at her, frowning deeply and put food on it for her, but she simply pushed it away, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

" 'Mione, you've got to eat something. You've barely eaten anything since it happened." Harry told her, leaning forward and whispering softly so that only the three of them could hear.

"I can't...I'll just be sick later." She muttured, looking away from them. In one fluid motion, she swung her hair around to hide her face from those next to her (I.E. The staff table) and pressed her cheek to the wood table top.

"Hermione, I'm begging you to eat something. You don't look good at all." Ron muttered, putting a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged him off and turned her face. "Listen. It's been four days--maybe you should talk to him?"

Hermione laughed without humor.

"You first..." She mumbled, pressing her entire face into the table.

"Hermione--"

"No! We're not having this conversation! I'm not going to talk to him!" she was nearly shouting as she leapt to her feet and spun around to leave the Great Hall.

Snape watched her the entire time. He agreed with Ron that her lack of food had done her no good. She looked drawn, tired and pale. Not to mention she was in a sour mood more than often. He found himself mimicking her actions every once in a while, as well. He found himself smiling when she did, though they were not looking at eachother. Or yelling at someone, and he would hear her scolding either Ron or Harry.

He leapt to his feet at the presise moment she did, and watched, frowning and aware of the hudreds of eyes set on him, as she stalked out of the hall. He glanced at Albus Dumbledore, who nodded encouragingly at him, and rushed quickly out of the hall after her.

"Miss Granger?" He called, until he found her pressed into a corner, her face held in her hands. She looked very much like she was crying. "Miss Granger...?" she shook her head.

"No...go away." She said, her voice muffled by her hands. He stepped forward hesitantly, but stopped before he got too close. They stood like that for several moments before Hermione finally turned around, sniffling and hiccuping. She didn't look at him, and kept her eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

"So," She mumbled. "I suppose we don't have much of a choice but to talk now." They nodded together, mechanically.

**Sorry about the short chapter. And sorry it's taken so long to update. I just started school, so updates may only come on weekends. **

**And to my Air and Darkness readers, UPDATE IT COMING SOON!!!**


	5. Inside Out

**Disclaimer (Because I haven't been adding it)- I own nothing. Remember that incase I don't. ;)**

He led her down through the dungeons, keeping a calm and collected appearance the whole way. She, however hiccuped from the effort of trying to stiffle her tears and stumbled blindly down the steps, nearly falling into the man infront of her several times. After about her fifth missed step, Severus Snape finally unlocked a door and ushered her inside. Hermione wiped her eyes and stepped in after him.

It was a comfortable looking sitting room, though it was rather dark. Without invitation, she fell into a chair which sat next a rather large, antique looking fireplace. Snape sat in the chair opposite her and looked at her intently. She looked away, feeling extremely self-concious under his gaze.

"Where shall we start?" Hermione asked, her head bowed politely.Snape watched her reprovingly, clenching his hands on the arms of his armchair. He figured she was going to make an effort in being difficult.

"I suppose we should start at the beginning. Does it not seem logical?" A small smile graced her lips, and she lowered her head even further to hide a blush.

"Yes, I would say it does." She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around her shins. With a wave of his wand, Snape conjured a tea pot and two saucers. Hermione denied hers with a small smile of thanks.

"Sir? Can I ask something?"

"Will 'no' be a legitimate answer?" She shook her head with an expression on her face that was somwhere between a grimace and a weak smile. He returned the expression with a small shrug, or rather a jerk of the shoulders.

"How did you feel when you...you know...found out?" Snape flinched inwardly; he was not prepared to be questioned on his feelings, and he was not prepared to answer. His feelings were locked in a box, a very very large box which grew everytime he needed it to hide, to get away. The lock to that box had been hiden as well, and he was less than ready to dig it up and use it for anything other than conceilment.

"I...don't know." He muttered after three long minutes.

"I think you do."

"It's not your place to assume that." He snapped. She bit her lip, but remained silent. His mouth was a thin line, face white with what Hermione guessed was embaressment.

"Since you have decided to intrude on my part--"

"But--no, I didn't--"

"I think I may put the same grace upon you." She flinched at his tone, quickly getting lower and deeper as he attempted to suppress his anger. "What were you feeling?" He settled back in her chair and waited for her answer, sipping his tea as he did so. Her face turned a deep red. She was afraid of the reaction she would recieve for her answer. It was a rather offencive answer, even if she didn't mean it to be--

"Miss Granger? I'm waiting."

She sighed.

"May I add a disclaimer? Please do not take offence to this, Sir, it was how I was feeling at that exact time. Or close to it, anyway." He nodded for her to continue. "Well, at first I was...erm...disguisted."

"I suppose that would make sense...most people would be if they found out who--"

"Let me finish, please. It wasn't because it was _you_. You're a teacher, obviously...and that was the reason for that particular reaction. After that, I was scared." She immediatly saw the understanding in his eyes, which made her shiver slightly. "I wasn't sure how to take in what Professor Dumbledore was telling me, so I paniced. I really never expected my future to be involved with someone magic told me to love." Her face turned red again and she bowed her head. "Then I was angry... Angry at Dumbledore, at you, at myself. And then understanding that there was no way around it...and now fear again." She sighed and rested her forehead on her knees, masking the tears that had welled up into her eyes.

Snape sat silently in his chair. He had finished his tea, and had his hands folded in his lap. "I see," he muttered after a few moments, but Hermione remained motionless.

**Well, I chose to call this chapter Inside Out because of a song by Emmy Rossum.**

**If anyone would like to do fanart, it's greatly appreciated. I have a deviant art account (lotteoeuvre) or you can e-mail me at Or simply review my story and tell me you would like to draw for me. :) Send me a sample! YAY!!!**

**Inside Out lyrics:**

**"Unsew my seems,**

**look inside if you dare.**

**Will you still like what you're seeing now?**

**Secrets and sins**

**All exposed, spilling out.**

**Am I still safe here on this fragile ground?**

**Inside out before you now.**

**Bare these bones and lay me down.**

**This suicide feels so alive.**

**Will you take me as I am?**

**Inside Out."**

**For the rest, and to listen to the song, go to **


	6. Meeting Professor Loveless

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Except Evey Loveless, the character I am choosing to introduce in this chapter. Thank you!**

Fridays were always the longest, and being only the first class of the day, Harry, Ron and Hermione felt the day could go on forever. Thankfully, they were on their way to a class that they thoroughly enjoyed despite the class the had after it. Ron and Harry chatted animatedly the entire way to the Defense against the Dark Arts room. Hermione, who walked in her usual place between them remained silent, her mind caught in a particular conversation she had had with a certain teacher the morning before. In fact, her mind was so gone, that she might have run into the door had Ron not grabbed her shoulders and Harry open the door for her. She smiled at them apologetically and entered the classroom.

Professor Evey Loveless stood at the front of her classroom, a book in her hands. She had dirty blonde hair which was curled and hung free around her face. It moved with her motions, so they looked natural. Only everyone knew that they weren't: her hair was straight as a stick, but it looked nice non the less. Her eyes were a bright green, and expressed whatever she was feeling at that moment, and she had a smile that could knock the strongest man flat on his back and cause a concussion with its beauty. Any female that was well acquainted with her might envy her, but found it impossible for she was an incredibly nice person and exceptionally easy to get along with and speak to.

Harry, Ron and Hermione took their seats along side each other in the second row, right side. No books were needed, unless they were handed to them. Professor Loveless believed solidly in hands on learning. Each student took out their wands, smiles on their faces, and waited for her to begin.

"We'll be going a bit further into the Dueling subject today, I think." Her book snapped shut, and a bright smile formed on her pretty face. She produced her wand and counted off the students with the tip of it: A basic head count.

"Alright, well. Six pairs of two, yeah? Pair up, pair up!" Ron immediately turned to Hermione, and Harry turned toward Cho Chang, the pretty girl he fancied for quite some time. She winked at him and nodded.

Ron and Hermione made their way through the pairs and settled in a corner. "Ready?" He asked her, a wicked grin on his face.

"Absolutely, Ronald." She replied, grinning mockingly at him. Her rolled his eyes at her and produced his wand, holding it at the ready. They bowed and began. Though Ron thought for sure he would be able to beat even a girl, her was sadly contradicted with Hermione threw a difficult to have foreseen binding spell his way. His body instantly went numb, and he heard a _thump _when he hit the floor. The class laughed around him, and he was slight disappointed to find that his hearing was still in working order. He would rather have been deaf to the laughter, it was humiliating, really.

By the end of the class period, Ron had managed to disarm Hermione twice, and Hermione had managed to disarm him four times, and dislocate his shoulder once. She apologized vigorously when he was escorted out of the room by Professor Loveless. She smiled reassuringly at Hermione as the door shut. Meanwhile, Harry was letting Cho throw him across the room with Stupefy. He had allowed her to disarm him the entire time, only letting himself get a chance twice.

Ron was well again by the time Potions came around, and had forgiven Hermione a bit too easily. The three walked through the door albeit arm in arm, talking animatedly about their accomplishments in the previous class.

"Did you see me knock Hermione over?" Ron asked Harry as they took their seats at the front of the class.

"I think the entire class did, seeing as you were shouting at her the entire time."

"I was surprised! Can you blame me?"

"Yes, I can, I-"

"Will you two stop bickering?" Hermione hissed from under the table. She had dived into her back to retrieve her book, quill, and parchment. When she emerged, Snape was standing at the front of the class, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Hermione guessed he was trying to burn holes through each of the students' heads until they discontinued their chattering. When they saw him, silence fell over the classroom in less than three seconds.

"I will trust you all have checked your potions by now? No? How disappointing. If the stink would not reverberate throughout the entire school, I might let them go bad and fail you all, but seeing as the smell of rotting potion would in fact knock out a herd of elephants, go." There was a scramble as the entire class ran to check their potions. As Neville stirred his, it turned a putrid colour the shade of baby diarrhea and nearly burnt a whole in the bottom of his cauldron. Snape was quicker, and vanished the potion before it could do any true damage.

"How long has it been since you checked this potion, Longbottom?" Neville sputtered and tripped, though he was not moving.

"I-I-Well, It's been–"

"You've not checked it at all, have you? I thought not. You'll receive a failing grade…yet again." Snape turned on his heel and, before he could stop himself, found he was standing behind Hermione, Ron, and Harry. All three looked the same, and correct.

"Well done." He muttered as he walked away quickly.

**I am so sorry that this has taken so long! I've been reading Beowulf for English class, and my workload has been overwhelming. So sorry!**

**I decided to add Professor Evey Loveless because I thought my own character was needed. My model for her is Natalie Portman. I'll be adding her history in future chapters. **

**I also thought that I needed a bit more than just Snape and Hermione action going on, so there's not much of them in this chapter. Please don't sent me hate mail!! I love you!!**


	7. No shirt, No shoes, No service

**Wow! Thank you guys for the reviews, it seemed as though they were as soon as I had revealed the chapter to you. :D That's great! Unfortunately, Air and Darkness doesn't have such luck. If you all like Twilight AND Harry Potter, I would appreciate more reviews on that story. :)**

**ArcadeFire: Evey Loveless has some of my personality, so I suppose a simpler response to your question would be 'Yes'. I have roleplayed her, and part of me just kind of chipped into her. (I suppose it is more of a very large portion of me) :) Thank you so much!**

The most odd detail about that Friday was that they had very little potions homework.. Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way back to the Gryffindor common room. Ron was oddly happy about their lack of work. Harry, however, thought there was something far worse coming their way because of this, and also figured he was spending too much time around Professor Trelawny..

"Hermione, you really should connect with teachers more often." Ron said happily, shaking his nearly empty bag and grinning widely. Hermione shook her head at him.

"Certainly not. It's your turn next" She was in high moods as well, and smiled at him. "Canary Cream." She told the Fat Lady the password and she swung open for them to enter the common room. Neville ran up to them, smiling slightly: He was please about the lack of homework, but still hadn't gotten over his failure in the class.

"Never expected that, did you?" He asked, falling into step with the trio. Harry, Hermione and Ron exchanged looks and shook their heads.

"Never," Said Harry.

"Absolutely not." Said Ron.

"Erm...no.." Hermione mumbled. She ducked her head slightly and made her way to a table. She dumped her books out and chose Transfiguration to work on first.

"We've got half and hour until Herbology...and you're not going to do any work at all, are you?" Ron and Harry gave her skeptical looks.

"Do we ever?" Ron asked. "Come on. Let's play Exploding Snaps." He suggested, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah, sure." He dug into his bag and pulled out the dangerous deck of cards. Hermione shook her head at them and produced her quill and parchment. Once she got started, she barely noticed the explosions going on behind her.

Herbology was interesting. Professor Sprout had decided to allow them to handle man eating plants. She demonstrated by showing them how Spiders reacted to the plants. This meant that she brought out a large jar of large spiders and set them loose in the classroom, making the students watch the plants hop around after the insects. Poor Ron nearly had a heart attack and jumped onto the table. Hermione and Harry followed soon after when one of the plants had mistaken their feet as spiders and tried to take chunks out of their toes.

Care of Magical creatures wasn't much better. Hagrid made them all bring their Monster book of Monsters. Neville got it right this time, but Hermione didn't have as much luck. She ended up in the hospital wing with deep gashes on her face, arms, chest and stomach. She wasn't feeling the pain, more annoyance that she would be missing the lesson. Her book was on the table next to her, growling and grumbling.

"Shut up," She mumbled to it, crossing her arms. But she winced. She felt that one. Madame Pomfrey came bustling toward her. She was very matronly looking, her face contorted into an expression of concern.

"I can't believe he's using these things again." She said more to herself than to Hermione. But Hermione nodded anyway. Madame Pomfrey removed Hermione's robe and told her to take off her shirt so she could properly see the wounds. She did so, feeling extremely awkward.

"I'll have to clean these out first. Did you fall on the ground?" Hermione nodded and watched as she poured a deep purple liquid onto some tissue and began dabbing at Hermione's wounds. It stung and smoked, and tears sprang to Hermione's eyes. She closed them and bit her lip.

"Poppy–I...Oh, God." Hermione clenched her eyes shut. Snape's voice rang in her ears, and she was hoping that it was all in her mind.

"Severus Snape! What do you think you are doing?!" Madame Pomfrey's shrill voice was next in her ears, then the sound of a curtain being pulled closed.


	8. Of Mice and Men

When Hermione entered Potions the next day, her arms were folded tightly across her chest and she walked past a...ah...blushing...Snape to get to her seat. She hadn't told Ron and Harry about what happened the previous day, so they repeatedly looked from her to Snape until her lifted a book threateningly. The looks stopped quickly, but Hermione refused to meet Snape's eyes. The class wrote a long essay on the uses of the Bezoar in healing potions, then spent the rest of the class period staring at one up close and personal because of a snide comment donated by Harry. Apparently, he didn't quite understand what made the stone so life-saving, regardless of the fact that he used it to save his best friend the previous year. Hermione mumbled that it didn't have to make sense. They were magical, after all.

While competing a staring match with a wrinkly stone, Hermione felt eyes on the top of her head. She looked up and her honey eyes met pitch black irises, then dropped immediately. The rock seemed a much easier gaze to keep. It didn't make her feel selfconscious. But, soon enough, the class period ended, and Hermione lept to her feet in order to rush from the room. A deep voice stopped her, though, and she groaned audibly.

"Miss Granger. A word." She noticed that it was an order rather than a question. Her hands painfully balling into fists, she turned around and felt her feet force her toward the man she had been trying to avoid.

"Yes, Professor?" She asked, closing her eyes and setting her jaw. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"About yesterday--"

"No!" She said quickly, opening her eyes.

"No..."

"I don't want to talk about that." He kept a blank face, but leaned forward in his seat. He reached forward an hesitantly took one of her hands in his.

"Understandable. But I think it's relevant. Don't you."

"Nope." She replied stubbornly. "It's ridiculous. I don't want to talk about it." Snape sent a brief glare at her, but dropped his eyes quickly.

"Hermione, we will have to talk ev--"

"Severus? Excuse me...I don't mean to intrude. Actually...I do. Ah, good. Miss Granger's with you. I need to speak with you both. I'm afraid it's not a happy matter..." Albus poked his head through the door and upon his entrance, Snape dropped Hermione's hand, and their moment stopped.They both exchanged curious glances and Snape rose to his feet to follow Albus. Hermione was on his heels.

"Miss Granger, there really is no easy way to tell you this. I wish I didn't have to; you've no idea how much I am despising this moment and people responsible for it. You've been through enough, really."

"Albus, will you just get on with it?" Snape hissed. He had taken Hermione's hand again when they took their seats in Dumbledore's office. She was beginning to get quite frightened. What if something happened to Ron and Harry? Or an of the Weasleys? She didn't even want to think about it.

"My dear...last night Death Eaters attacked your place of residence...and...well. I'm very sorry to inform you of this, but...your parents are dead."

**This one's short as well. Quite sorry, my dears. It's been a while, I know. Please don't stone me. :) R&R as always.**


	9. Those Who've Passed

**Disclaimer: I own nada! Not even Microsoft Word...**

Hermione waited several moments before speaking. Her throat was dry, and she could feel her head swimming. They had to be joking. That's what she decided. It was all a joke, and at any moment Snape and Dumbledore were going to jump up and down laughing their heads off because it was all a huge joke. But the minutes ticked past and no one laughed. No one jumped. The twinkle was gone from Dumbledore's eyes. Hermione could feel her throat constricting.

"No." She said slowly. "It's not true..." She couldn't wrap her head around what she was being told. "Please...tell me you're joking." Dumbledore frowned.

"My dear, why would I...joke...about this?" he asked, leaning forward and folding his hands on his desk. Hermione couldn't provide him with an answer. She looked frantically from Snape to Dumbledore, both of whom were watching her, gauging her reaction. She swallowed several times, but found herself unable to rid her throat of the terrible lump that had lodged itself there. Her eyes fell to the hands that were folded together on the arm of her chair. One was small, pale and icy. The other was larger, pale as well, and warm compared to her chilled temperature. She let go of his hand and stood up.

"Excuse me." She mumbled and quickly made her way toward the door.

"Miss Granger?" Dumbledore called after her. Both men, too, rose to their feet. Snape made to follow her, but Albus held up one hand. "Leave her. Let her grasp hold of it." After shooting him a rather unpleasent look, Snape dropped back into his chair.

After making it into her rooms, Hermione closed the door and sat on her bed. This was one of the few times she was actually grateful for being HeadGirl. She had her own room. Her head was spinning. She could barely breath, and the only thing she wanted to do was send a letter home to her parents to see if what the Headmaster told her was true. Climbing slowly and carefully to her feet, she set off for the owlry. She was thouroughly convinced that her parents were still alive and this was some sort of cruel humor.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_It's Hermione. I know it's been a while since I last wrote, and I'm really sorry. Please forgive me. Listen, I've heard a nasty rumor that you were attacked and killed. Please contradict it. I love you both so much. _

_Love,_

_Hermione_

She folded the note and chose a promising looking owl to deliver her message. Her heart was pounding eratically against her ribcage as she watched the owl fly off.

"You're wasteing your time, you know." A deep, silky voice said from behind her. She didn't jump, but remained unscathed.

"Yeah, well, that's what I do best." She mumbled, hugging her arms around her. Snape walked up next to her and followed the direction of her gaze to the owl shrinking into the distance. Her heart sank when she realized the owl probobly wouldn't be returning with a reply. She sighed softly. Then a thought hit her.

"The Time Turner!" She cried, spinning to look at Snape. He raised an eyebrow at her enthusiasm. "I could use the Time Turner to bring them back!" Snape shook his head, a slightly pained expression on his face.

"It doesn't work that way, love..." Her face fell and she turned back toward the window.

"Why not?" she asked softly.

"You can't bring back those who've passed without seriouse consequences."

"But!" she began, turning to face him again. "We saved Bu--WitherWings and Sirius!"

"That was a different situation entirely." he told her sadly. "I'm sorry. It can't be done."

"What are the consequences?"

"What?"

"The consequences for bringing back someone who's passed with the Time Turner. What are they?"

"I'm not going to get into that with you. It's far too dangerous." His tone confirmed the end of that. She sighed and turned back to the window.

**It's quite short again, but at least I'm updating!! And this ones a bit of a cliffy to keep you all hanging on. ;) Hope you enjoyed!! R&R**


	10. Don't Stop Now

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, my friends. **

Several days passed by. Hermione was completely numb to the fact that anybody and everybody was trying to console her from the insidate that took place merely three days earlier. She had been to speak with Madame Pomfrey several time, who, as it happened, was the resident psychologist and well as medi-witch. Nothing helped. No matter how many times she was told that her current state was unhealthy, she didn't care. Feeling nothing was easier than feeling anything at all related to the death of her parents.

The staff gathered in the staff lounge, discretely discussing Hermione's condition. Seemingly, everyone was very worried.

"Her walls have been put up too far, Albus. There's nothing that I can do." Poppy said sadly, sitting and letting her head fall into her hands. Albus nodded and let out a rather shaky breath.

"It must be done, then..." He said, and turned to look at Snape, who looked startled.

"What?" He asked blankly.

"You must brake through her walls. You know how...you've done it before." said Minerva, crossing her arms indifferently over her chest. She'd not show it, but she was extremely concerned for her star student.

"I'm sorry...since when was I dragged into this? This doesn't concern me in the least." Snape countered, backing up and holding up his hands, palms forward infront of his chest.

"Severus, it must be done."

"Has it occured to any of you that the doing of this may result in the possible or attempted suicide of a teenage girl?" He asked darkly.

"Severus! Really!" said Professor Sprout, glaring at him. He shrugged.

"I am only speaking the truth."

"It must be done..." Repeated Albus.

Snape sat across from a book-indulged Hermione in the library. Only a few students sat in the squashy chairs around them, but they quickly got up and left as soon as he had made himself comfortable. He knew for a fact that he was going to regret what he was about to do, and tried to delay it. Hermione didn't notice him when he sat down, nor did she seem to notice when he fixed her with an intense stare, holding a contest with her downcast eyes.

"Yes?" She asked blankly after a few moments. Her quarked an eyebrow at her. "Sir..." she added when he didn't answer.

"You're slipping in your classes, you realize." He said, picking up a book out of the pile she had next to her and opening it. There was really nothing scholastic about the book, which was odd for Hermione.

"Hmm." She grunted and turned a page indifferently. He sighed audibly and tossed the book back into the pile, earning him a nasty glare from their librarian.

"Listen to me. This must stop. Now. You're not listening!"

"Sure, I am." She mumbled and turned the page again. He growled and reached across the table, yanking the book from her hands.

"Hey--!"

"Listen! The loss of two lesser known muggles is not going to stop the world from turning!" He knew that it would hurt her--and him later--for saying this, but as Albus had said, it needed to be done. Hermione fixed him a look that might have shot daggers.

"Don't. You. Dare." She hissed angrily.

"Don't dare what, Miss Granger? Speak the truth? Your parents were muggles, and you rarely saw them anyway." They were both on their feet now. What happened next, no one would have been able to predict. Hermione's core temperature dropped, and she found it extremely difficult to breath. Snape grew a tad bit worried when her face turned a deep shade of red, and she gasped for breath.

"I-I...Can't--breath!" She panted, reaching out for him. He grabbed her by the arms and they both fell to the floor. "How--how..could you?" Tears flodded her eyes, making it nearly impossible to see. The man in front of her was a mere blur, and it was getting even more difficult to retrieve air.

"It had to be done..." He stated simply. "Breath, Hermione. Breath." His hands rubbed up and down her back gently. "It's not healthy to not feel anything. Your teachers and collegues are worried." Her chest rose and fell rapidly, but the air was beginning to thin and she was able to breath a little better. He removed his hands from her back, but she inched a bit closer.

"Don't stop now..."

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Emmy Rossum's 'Don't Stop Now' inspired it.**

**Don't Stop Now:**

_**Follow you close four steps behind.  
Part of me knew all of this time.  
Pushed it down deep, kept it so small.  
To help me keep these fragile walls,  
From crashing down around my feet.  
Don't make a sound, just let you be.  
Lost in her face, can't turn away.  
This final blow helps me let go.**_

Don't stop now, I need this to hurt.  
Burn it into my mind.  
No more second guessing anymore.  
This is how it ends.  
So don't stop now, get my head on straight.  
And if seeing this is what it takes,  
Please don't stop it now.  
This will be the last time.

This darkened street you go to hide.  
Illuminates you are not mine.  
These tears run cold, my body numb.  
I am not whole, what have you done.  
It all makes sense, the disconnect.  
Too many words we left unsaid.  
But still I stare frozen here.  
Until the curtains close.

Don't stop now, I need this to hurt.  
Burn it into my mind.  
No more second guessing anymore.  
This is how it ends.  
So don't stop now, get my head on straight.  
And if seeing this is what it takes,  
Please don't stop it now.  
This will be the last time.

I need to see this through until this final bow.  
Illusions gone, the show is done.  
So don't stop now.

Follow you close four steps behind.  
Part of me knew you are not mine.


	11. Your Misery

**Disclaimer: I own nada!!!!**

**Thanks for all of your reviews! I'm so happy that people are actually reading something I've written. :)**

"Hermione?" A small voice was unheard from inside the Head Girl's room. "Hermione, open up, I want to talk to you." Ginny knocked her fists against the door, but still Hermione didn't answer. Pressing her ear against the door, she heard soft music, and someone singing along. She didn't recognize the song, but knew someone who would. Her loathed potions teacher, Professor Severus Snape. She cracked the door open, staying silent so as not to be noticed by her friend, and peeked inside. Upon glancing inside the room, she realized the music was coming from Hermione's wand, and the voice was coming from Hermione. Lost for a moment because her voice was more beautiful than she ever might have guessed, Ginny flicked out her own wand to record it. She only stayed for a few moments, but it was enough to get a recognition from the song.

She ran, faster than what she knew she was capable of, down to the Potions classroom. Hermione has told her about what was 'going on' between her and the Potions Master, so Ginny thought that he would be a good place to start to seek further help for her depressed friend.

Skidding to a halt, she narrowly missed slamming into the door bodily, and wrapped her fists on the wood. It didn't take long for the door to open, Snape could obviously hear the urgency in her knocks.

"Miss Weasley...to what do I owe this visit?"

"Hermione." She gasped. Snape suppressed a sigh and ushered her inside. They both sat a desk, on either side, and Ginny admitted her wand. He watched her warily.

"Identify this song, Professor." she said and flicked the wand. Hermione's voice flowed from the tip in a pale blue light.

_Wishing you were somehow here again._

_Wishing you were somehow near._

Snape's face crumpled.

"Who is singing that?" he asked, watching as the light dissolved somewhere near where his left arm was rested on the desk.

"It's Hermione, sir. Do you know the song?" He nodded. It was all too familiar. The Phantom of the Opera. The song Christine sang when she felt grief for her dead father.

"Oh, yes." He said. "It's from a musical, perhaps you've heard of it, though it wouldn't surprise me if you haven't." She shot him a quick glare, which he brushed off with one of his own.

"Wishing You Were somehow Here Again. From The Phantom of the Opera."

_Wishing I could hear your voice again. _

_Knowing that I never would._

_Dreaming of you won't help me to do_

_All that you dreamed I could._

Ginny sighed and placed her wand on the table, where it kept playing, to put her hands over her eyes.

"I don't know what to do, Professor. She hardly comes out of her room, except to go to classes, and she doesn't speak. I'm sorry to bring this to you, sir, but she told me about what's going on and--"

_No more memories._

_No more silent tears_

_No more gazing across the wasted years._

"What has she told you?" Snape asked, suddenly intense, staring at her through his slitted eyes.

"About the connection...sir." Ginny replied sheepishly. Snape clenched his teeth. _Damn unreliable girl...but she never did promise not to tell...still doesn't give her the right..._

_Help me say goodbye..._

_Help me say...goodbye..._

"I think you need to go now, Miss Weasley." She was slightly taken aback when he stood and waited for her, then ushered her to the door and shut it soundlessly behind her.

If Hermione could have her choice, she would stay in her room forever. She was tired of the looks she got from all of her teachers. Even her friends treated her differently. Every time she glanced at Harry or Ron, they gave her a look like they were waiting for her to spontaneously combust.

"_You'll be all right, 'Mione. You'll see." _Harry said, hugging her fiercely.

"_You don't know that."_ She had told him. But then it occurred to her that he did know that, and she would be all right. Even if it didn't feel that way to begin with.

"Miss Granger, you've got to talk at some point." Hermione shook her head. Madame Pomfrey sighed and leaned forward in her chair. Hermione looked away, fixing her gaze on an empty bottle.

"Your parents are gone, and you haven't got any other family. You don't want to talk about that?"

"Why would I want to talk about something that makes me sad to talk about it?" Hermione asked skeptically. "Does that make sense to you, because it doesn't to me." She sunk deeper into her chair, embarrassed at having just spoken to a teacher in such a manner.

"No, dear. That's good. I want to know what you're feeling." Hermione snorted.

"Why, so you can use it against me? I know how this works, and I've managed to avoid it for quite some time now. Can you spare me this?"

"No. Professor Dumbledore wants you to talk, and that's just what you'll do. But in your own time. You're sick, Hermione, and you need to let it out." _Sick. _No one had told her that. She knew depression was an illness, but no one had told her she was actually sick.

This was going to be a while...

**I sort of dreamed this one. lol And got inspiration from both The Phantom of the Opera and Girl, Interrupted. Both wonderful. :)**


	12. What Hurts The Most

Numb; It was a wonderful feeling. Complete numbness. Indifference. Days were only a blur, and when the sun went down, it was all blackness. Brilliant, unfeeling blackness. This was going to be just fine for Miss Hermione Granger. No longer did she have to worry about the concerned glances she received from both her peers and her superiors. It was definitely a wonderful feeling.

10:00 AM: It had been two days since her parents' death and the funeral was closing in on her, only hours away. As anyone would have been, she was nervous, but had she not been indifferent to most things, she may have been a complete wreck.

11:00 AM: Her mirror was lying, she decided. The reflective glass was showing a calm face with no emotion, while inside, she was groaning. Not yet screaming, but telling her that she could _not_ do this. She could _not _watch her parents being lowered into the ground. She could _not_ say goodbye. But she had to. There was no way out of it.

12:00 Noon: "Miss Granger? I've been sent up to fetch…why aren't you dressed?" Hermione stood up from her chair and paced across the room away from him. "Miss Granger, the funeral starts in half an hour. Are you going to get dressed?" She shook her head wordlessly and straightened items on her desk which were all ready straight. "Why not?" Severus asked, crossing his arms impatiently over his chest.

"I'm not going." She replied. Her tone was dead, and when she looked at him, he noticed that her eyes were gone of the usual light they held.

"You're not…going?" Severus asked. She shook her head again.

"No."

"Why?" She paused and met his gaze again. He examined her: her hair was bushier than usual and her hazel, honey-toned eyes were cold and lifeless. Her skin was sallow looking and her body looked as though she hadn't eaten in quite some time.

"If I go to that funeral, it means that they're not coming back, and I don't think that I can handle that." She replied in a shaky voice.

"Miss Granger, they're not coming back whether you go or not." Severus said, quirking an eyebrow in her direction.

"It's easier to fake indifference." Said Hermione in a small voice. And the numbness was fading; a sharp, hollow ache was settling itself in her chest. She coughed to try and be rid of it.

"Are you ill?" He asked, schooling his expression to be blank. Despite his best efforts, he was starting to feel for her. Hermione shook her head in the negative.

"Not ill…" she said softly. "Just…sad." Severus nodded.



"Understandable, of course. Please get dressed. I doubt anyone would appreciate it if you showed up in your night clothes." Hermione sighed in defeat and nodded slowly. She walked to her armoire. She pulled out a black dress, shrugged slightly, and disappeared into a separate room.

"Miss Granger, five minutes!" Hermione emerged only seconds later, the clingy black dress hung off of her too thin form and her bushy hair was pulled back into a French braid. She nodded to him and he offered his hand, which she took. He pulled her to him into a quick, tight embrace.

"You can do this." He murmured. She nodded reluctantly and wiped away a few tears.

_Rest in Peace, Anna and George Granger._

She felt more.

_And though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I fear no evil…_

She felt more.

_I'm so sorry for your loss…_

Her chest throbbed.

_They didn't deserve this._

A knife through her heart.

"Take me back."

"Back where?" Severus asked.

"Back to the castle. Take me back. Now."

"Do you think _now _is a good time?"

"Yes. I do." Hermione grabbed his sleeve and dragged him out of the room. Once they were clear of all muggles, her wrapped his arms around her and spun.

They reappeared in his quarters, where she finally broke down and cried. He directed her to a chair and she sat. He backed up and simply…watched.


	13. Author's Note

UPDATE:

Hey, guys. Sorry I haven't been updating on Existentialism. I'm really sorry to tell you that I will be deleting this story and adding a new, much better one. Thank you all for reading and reviewing, and please check out the new story that I'll have up very soon.

XXRemy


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